


Reckless

by dragonfly_moonlight



Category: Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Yaoi, male/male relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-15
Updated: 2011-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonfly_moonlight/pseuds/dragonfly_moonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in his life, Luther feels something other than contempt and self-superiority.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckless

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Ocean: Till The End of Time, and I do not profit financially from writing this story.

Luther watched in a horrified yet detached manner as Fayt drew his sword and dashed towards their foe, a plant-like creature with tentacles. From what Luther could see, the tentacles were covered in scales and had arrowhead-like tips, perfect for spearing unsuspecting victims. If Fayt were to get too close to this thing . . .

The thought of what could happen to his counterpart mobilized Luther. Why, he could not say with any certainty. He still told Fayt he could care less what happened to the younger man, even though Luther sensed his words were false. They often lacked the scathing heat he infused into his words, and Luther received the impression Fayt knew. He could not be sure, though. There were times when he could not read any emotions on Fayt's face, though, and it was in those moments Luther actually felt something he could not identify.

As he brandished his spear and rushed towards tentacle beast, Luther took a moment to analyze what his emotions – trivial things he always ignored as he had no use for them in any given situation – he realized the sensation he encountered when he could not decipher Fayt were similar to the ones now assaulting him. It had a name.

It was fear.

Tears stung at Fayt's eyes as he rushed towards the creature attacking him and Luther. They blurred his vision, turning the monster into nothing more than an orange and brown blob. His attack was hasty at best and suicidal, but Fayt did not care. At least, he did not care about his own safety. His heart already hurt too much.

Fayt had no explanation for his tears or for the undeniable anguish welling within his heart, the reason for his reckless behaviour. He only knew his pain grew with each cold look and scathing comment he received from the blond, and he could not counter whatever Luther sent his way. Fayt wanted his heartache to stop, to go away, and let him breathe. He desired to feel something, anything other than this unbearable anguish.

So he ran forward, his sword brandished. Before he had started to move, Fayt had seen a purple-coloured liquid dripping from the tips of the creature's tentacles, and somewhere in the back of his mind, the substance registered as poison. If any of it hit his blood stream, Fayt realized he would be sick for some time. He might even die, and the thought suited him fine when he should have feared for his life.

A flash of black appeared in Fayt's line of vision. All air left his lungs as something slammed into his abdomen, and he flew backwards. Before he even had a chance to regain his breath, he felt the wind knocked out of lungs for a second time. White spots danced before him while the rest of the world around him darkened and teetered. Not far from him, the tentacle beast roared and howled in pain as someone – Luther – sliced it to pieces.

'He . . . saved me . . . He . . .'

The need for air overrode any remaining thoughts, and Fayt gasped and sputtered. One hand went to his stomach, and he collapsed further onto the floor. Coughing and gasping, darkness claimed him.

Luther lifted Fayt's prone form into his arms, gazing at his counterpart's face as he did. There was a slightly pained expression on that normally peaceful, angelic face, and Luther also noticed some tear tracks. Fayt's eyes were reddened and swollen, as if he had charged the now dying beast with tears in his eyes. The information baffled Luther as he could not think of a reason for the tears.

The blond also noted the shaky breaths Fayt drew, and a small stab of guilt coursed through him. He had not meant to hit the younger man as hard as he had, but given their situation, it had been necessary. One of those tentacles had aimed itself straight at Fayt's heart, and Luther still was not certain if he had reached his counterpart in time.

As he rose to his feet, green eyes fluttered open, and a soft moan passed over those pale yet kissable lips. Fayt inhaled, a deep sound, and then coughed. He curled a little, and he continued to gasp for air. With a wave of his hand, the scenery around them changed. They traveled from a bloody, grassy field with a dying tentacle to a sterile medical room.

Once they were there, Luther set Fayt down on one of the beds then proceeded to strip him of his clothing. With the fabrics out of his way, Luther conducted a thorough search of Fayt's body. He wanted to ensure there were no scraps or scratches from the beast. He believed there were none, as he felt certain he had reached Fayt in time, but he could not squelch his fear and his panic. Fayt had gotten close to the damned thing, dangerously close. His dexterous fingers roamed over creamy-looking flesh, finding no cuts or gouges. Luther saw the two slender bruises forming on Fayt's abdomen, however, and they were testaments to the amount of forced he had used to keep his counterpart out of harm's way.

"Why?" Fayt's voice was weak, barely a croak, but it was enough to grab Luther's attention. His blue eyes locked with Fayt's green.

"Why not?" he countered. Luther possessed a fairly good guess as to what Fayt referred. The younger man shifted a little, wincing as pain lanced throughout his lithe form.

"I didn't think you cared enough to do something like that."

"Is that why you charged that thing? In a blind rage, no less?"

"I think you know the answer to that," Fayt replied, his tone solemn and quiet. He turned his head away from Luther, interrupting their gaze. Luther fought back the urge to sigh and shake his head at his counterpart. His hands, though, continued to touch every exposed portion of Fayt's flesh. When they reached the bruises, Luther murmured a healing spell. Then he spoke.

"I suppose you are right," he said. "I do know the answer. I guess the question is why would you take so much to heart?"

"What do you mean?" Those emerald green eyes were on him once more, and a delicious shiver coursed along Luther's spine. He loved those eyes and knew he could just gaze into them for hours. They contained so much emotion that he always remained enthralled. How could one person such as Fayt possess so much love for others, especially for someone like he? It constantly baffled Luther, and he wanted to find some answers most desperately.

"Exactly what I mean, Fayt. Why would you take so much to heart? You've always tolerated insults from others with relative ease and a way to counter. Why would what I have said to you be any different?"

"That's a good question," Fayt murmured, his eyes blinking. "I don't know. Why would you want to travel with me? Last time we saw each other, you were screaming we were nothing more than data. Toys for your amusement. You even still act the same way."

"Do I now?" Luther's hand traveled along Fayt's chest, brushing over smooth flesh and taut muscles. They quivered under his touch, and he could not contain his glee over such a fact. "I do not believe I am behaving in such a manner. At least, not at this moment."

It took a moment for Fayt to catch on to what Luther was doing, and by then, the blond had already teased one of the younger man's nipples into a hardened state. As a result, Fayt arched into his touch, almost instinctively. A low moan escaped Fayt, and his breath hitched. Then he started to sit up.

"You dislike?" Luther asked. He never moved his hands. Again, those emerald green eyes met his, only this time they had darkened, and Luther saw lust starting to burn in them.

"I don't think we should be doing this," Fayt answered.

"No? And why is that?" Luther leaned in closer. The younger man had not pulled away. Yet.

"We're not . . ." Fayt began.

"We could be, though," Luther interjected. He nuzzled Fayt's neck and wrapped his arms around the younger man's waist. His fear for Fayt's safety dissipated, relief and another emotion replacing it. The desire to hold Fayt, to kiss him and touch him, overwhelmed the blond. He pulled the younger man plush against his body and inhaled deeply of the scent greeting his senses.

To his delight, Fayt did not push Luther away. Rather, his hands rested on the upper parts of Luther's arms, and his head drooped. Blue strands of hair tickled along the side of Luther's face as he lifted Fayt off the medical bed and even closer to his body. One hand roamed lower, slipping in between the fabric of Fayt's pants and his flesh. Fayt trembled in response.

"Luther . . ."

"Do not ever do something so reckless ever again, Fayt," Luther whispered. "You do not understand how many rely on you, how much I rely on you."

He did not give Fayt a chance to reply. The moment the words left him, Luther pressed his lips, feather light, against the younger man's mouth. Surprise flickered in Fayt's eyes, but he never pulled away, much to Luther's delight. He smiled into their kiss, his tongue flicking out to tickle Fayt's lower lip.

After a few tentative moments, their kiss ended, and Fayt stood next to him, chest-to-chest and trembling. His eyes were locked with Luther's, and the blond detected uncertainty and fear in Fayt's posture. Luther offered him a slight smile. He knew what he needed to do and what he needed to say.

"What do you want, Fayt? What is it you wish for me to do?" Luther maintained his hold on his counterpart as he spoke. Fingertips dug into his upper arms, but Fayt did not answer him. Instead, he averted his gaze.

"Fayt?"

For a moment or so, the younger man did his best to keep his focus anywhere but on Luther. Fayt looked down, to his right and then to his left. Finally, those gorgeous green eyes were staring at Luther, and a smidgeon of hope flickered within them, mingling with the lust the blond had previously noted.

"Stay."

"That is it?" Luther raised an eyebrow at this, amused and somewhat baffled by the simple request. Fayt nodded.

"Yes. Stay. Please."

Luther kissed Fayt's cheek, smiling a little as he did. In a low and husky voice, he said, "You need not ask me that, Fayt. I had already intended on doing so. I was thinking of something else."

"You're teasing," Fayt replied back, his stance changing from one of uncertainty and fear to one of confidence. A light smile touched upon his features.

"Am I?"

"Yes," the younger man answered. "You're teasing."

As he spoke, Fayt's hands traveled from Luther's upper arms to his chest. The tips of his fingers were ghost-like, gentle, as they glided across his body. Fayt brushed his lips against Luther's cheek, and the blond's eyes closed halfway. His head felt light, he felt light, and the blond-haired man knew why. It was deep blue hair and emerald green eyes, and it was the soft feel of his counterpart's lips on his flesh. It was the lithe form pressed against his body, and it was the dexterous fingers so similar to his own fingers working at his shirt.

A part of Luther's mind, during this sensual form of play, remained coherent and aware of his surroundings. The cold, sterile room of the medical bay was not an ideal place for the activities in which they were about to engage. Something more appropriate was in order.

Keeping one arm wrapped firm around Fayt, Luther raised a hand and changed the scenery for a second time. The walls were no longer white and boring. Instead, they were now a warm shade of green. Exotic plants were placed strategically throughout the room, giving it a slightly cozy feeling. The metal bed was replaced with a king-size bed covered in black satin sheets and several oversized pillows. A slate grey comforter lay folded at the foot, ready for use should the need arise.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Luther smiled and returned his attention to the young man slowly undressing him. Cool air caressed Luther's exposed chest as his shirt was pushed to either side and over his shoulders. He released Fayt for a brief second, long enough to shrug out of the garment and allow it to fall to the floor, carelessly. Without delay, his arms were around Fayt once more, his hands cupping firm buttocks, and Fayt glanced around. Luther saw his eyes move.

"The candles are a nice touch," Fayt murmured. "Are you trying to impress me?"

"No," Luther said. "Impressing you is the furthest thing on my mind."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

Luther tilted his head a little. Keeping his hands in place, the blond swayed a little, Fayt's body moving in time with his. A tiny smile of delight touched Luther's lips as he felt a slight bulge next to his thigh.

"What does it feel like I'm trying to do?"

Fayt lifted his head, green eyes smoldering with a fire ready to consume. His cheeks were flushed a faint shade of red, something Luther found to be adorable and endearing. He leaned in, brushing his lips against Fayt's, and it was an action Fayt returned. Luther also pushed the younger man towards the bed, moving at a slow pace and sliding his hands up Fayt's back.

At the same time his hands traveled along bare flesh, Fayt's hands roamed over his chest and down to his abdomen. The touches were light, teasing, and arousing. Luther's blood burned as it coursed through him, and he deepened their kiss. Slender fingers dipped in between Luther's pants and his flesh. A brief moment later, the fabric loosened, and those hands so similar to his own pushed the pants down, revealing his hardening penis. They fell to the floor, and Luther stepped out of them at the same time he returned the favour.

With their clothing completely removed, Luther felt it was time to take things further and to see how far the younger man would allow him to go. Fayt's erection pressed into his inner thigh, and it burned his skin like a heating rod. The younger man wrapped his arms around Luther's neck, and his tongue slid across Luther's upper lip. Then Fayt pulled away.

"You mean this . . ."

"Yes," Luther confirmed. His arms slid around Fayt's trim waist, and he lifted the younger man up, carrying him over to the bed. Fayt's knees dug into his hips, and his erection pressed in between Fayt's butt cheeks. In a matter of scant seconds, they were on the bed, Fayt laying underneath him and pressed dangerously close.

What happened next, Luther could not fully recall. He knew he had opened a bottle of lubricant so he would not hurt his counterpart, but after that, well, he remembered a tight and wet heat. Flesh slapped against flesh, and Fayt's cries for him sent Luther into a sexual frenzy. To Luther, it did not seem as if he could bury himself deep enough into the younger man's body. He could not hold Fayt close enough, and he could not stop touching. It was painful, really, even after he released his seed within Fayt, and Luther knew why.

He had almost lost Fayt, and that was unforgivable.


End file.
